


Cold

by MidnightLoveStories



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, The Addams Family (Movies - Sonnenfeld)
Genre: AddamsFamilyXChange2020, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Snot, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightLoveStories/pseuds/MidnightLoveStories
Summary: Morticia is sick. Gomez takes care of her. Need I say more?
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Comments: 19
Kudos: 29
Collections: Addams Family Holiday Exchange





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 2: Morticia gets sick and Gomez takes care of her.

* * *

**Cold**

It was ridiculously early.

It was ridiculously early and ridiculously cold and he, too, felt a little bit ridiculous.

The snow felt ice-cold under his bare feet but he forced himself to take another tentative step into the white puff that covered the front yard of the Addams estate and almost hissed as the sharp cold spread through his every nerve. 

He bit his lower lip and winced. 

He really didn't know what came over him to do that every year. The cold was unbearable.

But then, there were so many things more unbearable than cold.

Here it was, yet another Yuletide season without his brother. Another year without Fester. And how he wished he could be here. This year, especially, even more than others.

There were so many things he wished for that never came to be. 

And then, there were some that he didn't even dare to wish for that were granted to him.

Like her. 

He tightened the belt of his burgundy robe and took a few more steps into the soft white puff, hissing at the sharp cold with each step, until he reached a particularly sizable hump of snow.

He turned towards the house and placed his cigar firmly between his teeth before outstretching his arms in opposite directions and unceremoniously flopped against the thick pillow of snow. 

He grunted at the impact and his mind immediately supplied him with every elaborate Spanish curse in existence as he waited for his body to get used to the biting cold. 

No chances of that.

He focused his gaze on the window to his bedroom - _their_ bedroom, he corrected himself promptly and couldn't help but grin.

His wife told him that he was mad and he would catch his death, and categorically and absolutely refused to join him in his morning, winter rituals. Cold showers were also out of the question. 

Ever since they have returned from their extended honeymoon, the weather took turn into a progressively colder and, save from their daily walks, and dinners out, Morticia preferred to spend her time inside the house, curled on the sofa next to a fireplace with a hot tea and a book or - well, otherwise delightfully occupied.

His wife. 

He loved calling her that. His wife. His love. His querida. 

He closed his eyes and his lips stretched into an unmistakable grin. 

She was a wish he never dared to even dream about because she was simply too perfect. Too amazing. Too beautiful and too wonderful and too good for him to ever truly deserve her and yet, she was his. 

Her lovely features were burned so deeply into his mind she was all he thought about these days, recounting these past few weeks since they met, every glorious moment together, every word spoken and every gesture.

He still couldn't believe his luck. It still felt unreal. Too good to be true.

This year he was spending his first Christmas as a married man. 

It was their first Christmas together as a husband and wife and he was determined to make it absolutely special and wonderful and unforgettable. He very much intended to spoil her shamelessly with gifts. Actually, he very much intended to spoil her with gifts for the rest of his life.

For the first time in years, he actually looked forward to the festive season. With her.

He exhaled sharply and jumped up to his feet, promptly making his way towards the front door where Lurch was already waiting for him with a fresh, dry robe.

"Thank you, old man," he said, shedding his wet clothes and slipped into his robe. 

Lurch growled, politely averting his eyes.

"You too think I'm mad, don't you?" Gomez asked and let out a short jovial laugh when the butler growled again.

This time with a good-natured annoyance.

"Get the tea ready, please," Gomez requested, already ascending the stairs."Mrs Addams should be up soon." 

* * *

He entered the bedroom that was basking in the fire from the hearth. 

God, it was roasting here. Lurch always made sure their bedroom was toasty warm just as Morticia liked it. His wife _really_ despised the winter cold. 

He smiled at the sight of her, wrapped up in the heavy winter duvet as he took off his robe, draping it over the chair and quietly slipped into the bed with her. 

He couldn't help but grin when she all but growled at him.

"Gomez, your feet are ice-cold," she complained, snatching her legs away in an abrupt manner, her voice still laden with sleep.

"I had a nice, little walk outside," he explained."And an even nicer little dive into the snow."

"You're one mad Castillian," she murmured affectionately, wrapping the duvet tighter around herself.

"And you love me."

"I'll love you even more if you keep your ice-cold feet to yourself."

Gomez laughed and leaned against the headboard, picking another cigar from the box.

“It’s called Cold Therapy,” he informed her lightly.”You should try it, it wakes one up better than a bucket of coffee.”

“I'd rather stick with the coffee,” came her muffled reply.”Darling, can you ask Lurch to put the fire on? It's freezing in here.”

He frowned in the midst of lighting his cigar, and turned to look at her, his expression incredulous.

“Querida, the fire is up, it’s boiling hot in here,” he pointed out and then his voice took on a concerned note,” Are you not feeling well, my darling?”

“Just cold,” she assured quietly.”I have a lovely headache, though.”

He peeled the heavy duvet from her face to look at her properly.

“You look flushed,” he noticed.”And it can’t be because of me as I’m yet to lay my hands on you.”

"If they are as cold as your feet, you can keep them where they are."

“I’m serious,” he insisted.

“So am I,” she replied, without even opening her eyes.

”You really do look flushed, I think you might have caught a cold.”

“Impossible, I never get sick.”

He laughed gently.

“Never?”

“Well not never, but the last time I was sick I was ten and I still ran barefoot in the garden,” she told him and finally opened her eyes, pushing the duvet down slightly.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything then.”

“Darling, I’m fine,” she assured, stretching her arms above her head before rubbing her eyes from the last remnants of sleep." Really."

Her husband looked unconvinced.

"I can't believe you went to lay in the snow and so early in the morning,” she told him, deliberately changing the topic.

He grinned at her devilishly.

"It's invigorating."

"Is it?" She asked teasingly, sliding her hand across his abdomen before adding suggestively, "You know what else is invigorating?"

She smiled when he let out a low growl and threw his cigar carelessly on the floor before swiftly pulling her on top of him, duvet and everything. Except, the abrupt movement caused a sharp pain near her temple and she couldn't help but wince, she felt her heads spin a little. 

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," she assured again, pressing the tips of her fingers to her forehead."It's just… ."

She didn't have a chance to finish her thought because Gomez pressed his lips against her forehead and murmured unhappily.

"You're really warm, Tish," he observed."Maybe you should stay in bed today, I'll ask Lurch to bring the breakfast upstairs." 

“Darling, I’m fine, I just felt slightly lightheaded,” she insisted before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.”Besides, we have lunch at Uncle’s Knick Knack today so we might as well start this day early.”

“We might skip this lunch this year.”

She shook her head and sat on the bed next to him, forcing herself not to wince again because even a gentle movement seemed to send a sharp pain through the very core of her skull but she was definitely not going to get sick on their first Christmas together.

“I want to go,” she assured him.”It’s our first Christmas together and you said that Christmas lunch is a family tradition.”

“Tish, it’s supposed to be fun, not a chore,” he pointed out, amused.”We don’t have to go if you’re not feeling well.”

“I feel very well,” she retorted confidently and pushed herself off the bed but the movement caused her head to spin again and she had to grab onto the bedpost for balance.

“Alright, back to bed, querida,” he all but ordered her, pulling her back to the bed.”I will call Uncle Knick Knack and make an excuse.”

“Gomez - “

“Tish, bed.”

She frowned at him but complied nevertheless

It must have been the fever, she reckoned, but she suddenly decided this dominant part of him was surprisingly alluring. They will definitely have to explore that further one day.

That, and also her legs did not feel as if they were planning on supporting her today.

She sighed in annoyance and settled back in the bed. 

She will have a nap, she's decided.

She will have a nap and will surely feel well enough to attend the Christmas lunch and all the ensuing festivities.

Morticia Addams has decided she will feel better by the end of today and that’s that.

It was probably just a little cold anyway.

* * *

It was the worst cold in her living memory.

She really did not remember ever feeling so miserable - and not in a good way. 

Her head was sore, the lovely headache she had in the morning turned into some monstrous migraine, every muscle in her body hurt, her sinuses were blocked and seemed to suddenly acquire never-ending supplies of mucus and her nose was red from the constant wiping. 

She barely had any sleep last night because she could barely breathe, she was so tired and irritated and even at some point she was angry at her husband because he slept like he had no care in the world while she couldn’t sleep a wink. It was so petty and ridiculous and she was so tired and felt like weeping.

She must have looked like a hot mess and they have only been married for less than three months, she didn’t want him to see her like this.

She was sure as hell that she looked nothing like the enchanting creature - as Gomez liked to call her - her husband met at the funeral of his dear cousin. 

She felt miserable and she looked like a mess and she hated every single second of it.

On top of everything, she was really rude towards Gomez and kept snapping at him when all he tried to do was make her feel better and in the end she all but told him to leave her alone. 

She didn’t even understand why she was so snappy when he was really being sweet and caring and trying his best.

She felt horrible. And she didn't want him to leave her alone at all, she just didn't want him around when she looked like a disaster. Oh, God, surely she wasn’t _that_ vain. 

Except, apparently she was. 

_This_ looked nothing like the first Christmas together she imagined. Not in the slightest. She wanted it to be perfect and special and it was all ruined instead. 

She really felt like weeping.

The door to the bedroom opened slowly and Gomez peaked through hesitantly and only when she smiled at him he pushed the door fully open and entered the room, balancing a silver tray in his hands. He also looked like he just lost a battle with a whole bag of flour.

“What’s that?” she asked, nodding at the tray.

“A soup,” he replied proudly and came closer to the bed, glad she seemed to be in a more amicable mood.

"A soup," she repeated, gazing suspiciously at the thick broth he placed in front of her.

”You’re sick, so you need chicken soup to make you feel better,” he recited as if it was some universal truth.

She raised her eyebrow sceptically but her eyes shone with amusement. 

“You… cooked me a chicken soup?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“From Mama’s cookbook,” he confirmed.”Decapitated rooster and homemade noodles.”

Okay, well, that explained why he was covered in white dust.

She gazed at him softly, truly touched by the gesture.

"Gomez," she smiled at him."That's so… ."

"What?" He prompted, grinning at her encouragingly.

"Sweet," she said.

"I'm a sweet guy," he replied and leaned towards her to kiss her forehead.

"I will probably barely be able to taste it, though" she warned him, picking up the spoon from the tray.

"That might work in your favour, actually," he admitted and pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down, propping his elbows against his knees and bit his thumb, grinning at her.

"Oh?"

"There's a strong possibility that I might have been too generous with the salt."

She smiled and shook her head good-naturedly but who was she to judge anyone’s culinary skills when she had none herself. She tried the spoon and even with her stuffy nose and dulled taste buds she barely forced herself to swallow the soup.

"Too salty?"

"A bit," she admitted but grinned at him encouragingly.”But I appreciate the effort.”

"I need to work on my cooking," he sighed dramatically, leaning against the chair in a defeated manner.

"Well, don't worry, I did not marry you for your cooking," she assured and smiled when he looked at her suggestively.

"No? What was it then?"

Her smile widened at his hopeful tone. He was really sweet and caring and she looked at him softly before delivering her answer in a loving tone.

"Money, naturally." 

* * *

This was ridiculous. 

Some utter absurdity.

A nightmare.

Surely, this cold couldn’t last forever. 

“This is disgusting,” Morticia complained, blowing her nose again. And again, for what seemed like the millionth time in the past three days.”Is there’s no end to it?”

“It will get worse before it gets better,” Gomez smiled at her sympathetically, drying his hair with the towel after his morning shower. 

He really felt sorry for her because she could barely sleep with that blocked nose and all. However, he wasn’t sure it warranted ‘accidentally’ kicking him out of his sleep in the middle of the night so they could be tired together. He couldn’t decide whether it was mean or adorable, or both.

On a positive note, he managed to beat his daily record of lying in snow this morning - almost three minutes and he will surely brag about it to his wife when she feels better because now she’d probably bite his head off. 

“This is not how I planned our first Christmas together to go,” she pouted uncharacteristically. 

He had an inner urge to tell her how utterly adorable he found her like that - red, stuffy nose and all but, immediately, thought better of it - he valued his life. Instead, he leaned closer to her and placed a small kiss on the top of her nose.

“I hate being sick,” she complained, leaning heavily against the headboard.”I hate winter and I hate snow and I look like a hot mess.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“A hot mess?” he repeated.

“I hate that you have to see me like this,” she said, crossing her arms against her chest.

“Why? I’m your husband,” he pointed out and slid into the bed next to her.

“Exactly.”

“For better and for worse,” he reminded her.

“Hmmm.”

“Tish - “

"You like parties," she said suddenly."And you looked forward to Christmas parties and lunch at Uncle's Knick Knacks. And now it’s all ruined because of this blasted cold.”

"Yes, I did look forward to it because I would go with _you_ , not because I'm crazy about my uncle," he tried to explain but she just huffed and reached for another handkerchief.

She turned her head towards him and exhaled tiredly.

"And instead you're here playing a nurse."

“Tish, come on it's not…," he sighed and shook his head."It's not a bother, I like taking care of you.”

“This is hardly a decent continuation of that passionate romance we started in the graveyard.”

“Isn’t it?" he grinned before placing a soft kiss to her temple.”Because I think it’s still quite alluring.”

Her lips curled into a small smile nonetheless and she leaned closer to kiss him again, she brushed her lips against his before letting out a sudden, huge sneeze and was infinitely grateful for a fresh handkerchief in her hand.

“Oh, _God,_ ” she groaned in disgust.”How alluring was _that_?”

“Top ten sexiest kisses of all times,” he deadpanned.”I shall never forget it.”

“Go- _mez_ ,” she moaned, wiping her nose again.” Oh good God, this is so disgusting. This isn’t at all funny.”

“Ah, querida,” he pressed his lips to her arm.”You’re beautiful - always, red nose and sniffles and everything. And I love you."

She graced him with a small chuckle and exhaled loudly, sliding dramatically against the headboard onto the bed.

“I hate everything,” she declared but then turned towards him and snuggled against him.”I’m _so tired_.”

He smiled at her sudden clinginess and wrapped his arms around her, placing a tender kiss to the crown of her head.

"Gomez-,"

"Hmmmm?"

"I feel miserable," she complained in such an uncharacteristically pitiful manner that he couldn't help but smile a little.

"I know," he murmured, rubbing her back in a gentle manner.

"Gomez," she said again, snuggling closer into him."I'm sorry I was being so rude to you."

"You were? I didn't notice,” he replied in a surprised tone, eliciting a soft chuckle out oh her.

"And thank you for the soup," she smiled against his chest.”You’re a fairly decent nurse.”

He laughed at her assessment, and his hand went to caress her long tresses in a soothing manner.

"Get some sleep, Tish, you will feel better in no time."

They fell into a comfortable silence, punctured only by her soft breathing as she finally managed to fall asleep and he continued to caress her hair gently. 

It wasn't Christmas any of them planned or imagined but he couldn’t help but marvel at this new intimacy between them because he really _liked_ taking care of her. Even when she was snappy or downright mean - he didn’t mind that, he knew she didn’t mean it. He didn’t care if she ever looked like a hot mess, although he really couldn’t imagine such time, he could never think of her as anything but stunning - red, stuffy nose and snotty kisses included. 

It wasn’t a ruined Christmas at all.

“It’s the best Christmas I've had in years,” he mused out loud.”Just because you’re here with me, and you’re more than I could ever wish for.”

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading!**


End file.
